FE: Awakening Snippet Storage
by Irksome Productions
Summary: As of now, a return to writing. Stuff written to get it out of my head. . . . Snippet 1: The Avatar is a shipper. Spoilers noted inside.


**Spoilers for:** Chapter 13/several of the Paralogues of Awakening.

* * *

The flap of the tent opens, letting in the evening light, as well as the armored figure.

"Milord Exalt, he's up to something again. He's been at it since we returned from Wyvern Valley." The figure says, saluting the occupant of the command tent while standing rigidly.

"What's our tactician up to this time?" The occupant replies, sighing as he looks up from the maps, with supply routes, roads, and potential camping locations marked in various colors.

"I don't know, Milord, but 'twas Lady Noire who informed me of it. Evidently, it has to do with the Shepherds." The soldier replies nervously, glancing around the tent from under his helm. "She wouldn't tell me more, saying that you'd need to see it for yourself."

"Joy. Accompany me then, Sergeant." The Exalt of Ylisse says, shuffling a handful of maps off to the side and heading towards the exit. "I suspect that this may play into your own concerns as well."

"Sir."

With that, the blue haired king and the messenger stepped out, headed to the tent the tactician was using.

* * *

The room was well lit, a trio of people peering over a large genealogy chart.

"Hm... Well, it's obvious that we need a handful more good front liners than we already have. Perhaps if we put arranged it so that..." The first, a man with roughly neck-length, messy brown hair says, moving a pair of tiles next to each other,

"No. From the estimates you provided, that would be suboptimal in terms of melee capabilities. Instead, let us pair her with _him_. Their physical might should be sufficient for our purposes." The second person, a woman with a similar length hair, though red and impeccably cut, replies as she tweaks her glasses. A gentle clink can be heard as she places a new tile on top of one of the first placed tiles.

"Hm... Tempting, for their potential, but no. Their personalities clash too much for that to be stable. I'd rather a stable, but slightly less powerful duo, than one that could explode at any moment. Especially with the forces that we're meddling with involved." The first says, nodding over at the third. "Laurent, are your memories of your comrades still elusive?"

"Sadly," The until-now quiet figure speaks as his name is brought up, looking almost like a male clone of the woman with stark white hair."They are. I suspect that the difficulty I am having recalling my allies has to do with passing through the Outrealm Gate, since none of the ones who made it seem to recall more than names and vague capabilities."

"Blast. That leaves it up to us to extrapolate from those details. If only we had more data to wo-"

The man is cut off by a noise at the entrance to the tent.

"I know you're in here. What is it you're up to?" A familiar voice says, as the tent flaps open and let in the Exalt and the messenger, who pause when they see the elaborate setup on the table and the piles of tiles nearby.

"Oh, hello Chrom. Just, uh, figuring out details for the next battle. Yep. Just that."

"Really."

"Yep. Nothing to do with the rash of children from the future we seem to be having."

"You don't say. And I suppose that it has nothing to do with the chart I found years ago when we finished Plegian campaign, with the relationships of various members of the Shepherds on it. And nothing to do with Miriel's recent paper entitled 'Military applications of eugenics'."

"Yeeeeep."

"I was under the impression that you did not maintain observance of the same academic resources that I submit my own work to." The woman says, a twitch of her eye belying annoyance at the revelation. "And that I had published under a pseudonym for that research."

"Miriel, Ricken keeps up with those sources, and he knows your writing style." The lord says, reaching to pinch his nose. "Now look, I know you two-"

A cough cuts off Chrom, as Laurent slightly adjusts his glasses.

"You _three_ want to make our army-"

"Actually, mostly the just few who serve with you directly. The rest, though somewhat vital to our cause, aren't the ones watching your back, and more immediately important to me, _my_ back."

Another cough is heard, as the messenger's armor rattles.

"Rob, you're digging yourself deeper."

"...Fine. I actually find this sort of thing interesting and fun. Matchmaking, I mean." The tactician says, sighing. "It's fulfilling to see people find happiness and love because I arranged it, okay? The stronger allies that are likely to appear is a side benefit."

"Sir, I think he's being serious now." The soldier pipes up, worry in his tone.

"I know. That's what's worrying me, too. Look , Rob, have you been getting enough sleep?

"...My sleeping issues have nothing to do with it! This is serious business!"

"Miriel, Laurent, I'd like you to not help Rob with any more projects like this. He's obviously having issues due to sleep deprivation."

"That is acceptable. I have collected enough data from this, for the time being." The bespectacled woman says, gathering up a small stack of papers, before stepping out of the tent.

"Of course, lord Chrom. I can deliver a report of his manipulations to you by the end of the day." The behatted man replies in turn, bowing and gathering his own stack of papers and joining his mother-from-an-alternate-timeline in exiting the tent.

"Both of you?! But... But why?! This was going so well!" Rob(in) says to the two leaving, betrayal clear in his voice. "I managed to get Lon'qu over his gynophobia! I made Cordelia stop pining! I'm resolving people's prob-"

"Rob, go get some sleep, now. Or I'll call in Lissa and have her _make_ you go to sleep."

"...But mind magic is just cheatin-" The robed man begins, being cut off with just a gesture from his friend.

"I don't care. We need you at your best, not ranting about who you're trying to get to fall in love with who. The last time you got like this, you nearly got yourself killed when you fell asleep mid-battle." Chrom says, waving to the soldier that accompanied him to leave.

"...Fine. But don't think I'll completely stop with this." The sullen tactician mutters, beginning to move the tiles back to their case and folding the chart up.

"If you didn't cause at least one incident a week, I'd begin to suspect you were an imposter, or being controlled somehow." Chrom replies with a smile. "Just... Tone it down, would you? I know that you think Olivia and Donnel would be adorable together, but..."

"I know, I know," Sighs Rob, a clink signifying that the tiles were stowed safely and the case closed. "It's best if I don't go putting them in harm's way to build a sense of mutual thanks between them."

"Exactly. Now, I'm leaving. It's late enough that we all need some shuteye."

With that, the blue haired lord leaves the tent, flap closing behind him.

* * *

**A/N**

So, this came about from me being tired, feeling like it'd be good to build up my skills as a writer again, and having a plotbunny infest my mind. I might add some more snippets like this, if I should give in and write 'em. Comments and criticism are welcome.

No, seriously, I want criticism.


End file.
